


Battle of the Bros

by damnfancyscotch



Series: Whimsy & Confusion [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, F/M, M/M, Prank Wars, general silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnfancyscotch/pseuds/damnfancyscotch
Summary: The Alpha Tau house and the Beta Sigma house have been rivals since before Stiles was born.-----Or, a Frat AU with a prank war and cute boys.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea of Stiles and Derek kissing while wearing snapbacks and shirts with their Frat's letters on them...

Stiles whistles lowly.

Scott and Boyd turn, slipping down the sidewalk and joining Stiles on the dark front porch of the Science building, perfectly placed across the way from the Beta house.

Stiles claps his hands together softly, leaning forward and whispering, “Okay, so here’s the plan.”

Boyd simply states, “No.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” Stiles squawks lowly.

Boyd shrugs one shoulder. “And I already know that it’s going to be a terrible plan.”

“That’s unfair,” Scott pipes up.

Stiles claps his best friend on the shoulder. “Thank you, Scotty!”

“It’s probably a decent plan.”

Stiles’ smile drops and he states in a much less friendly tone, “ _Thank_   _you_ , Scotty.”

“Of course, dude.” Scott beams and, god, Stiles just doesn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

“ _Any_ way,” Stiles turns back to Boyd, “will you just listen to the plan before you veto it?”

He casts his eyes skyward, likely wondering if his Vice President status is being put on the line. He sighs,  _“Fine.”_  

So, Stiles talks - quickly, since Boyd has very little patience. 

"This is incredibly juvenile," Boyd states when he's finished speaking.

Stiles and Scott nod.

Boyd rolls his eyes. "Do we need to get the forks, or-" He raises his eyebrows when Stiles jiggles his backpack and makes the sound of four hundred or so plastic forks clacking together. "If I get expelled, I'm killing both of you."

"Deal," Stiles and Scott chirp in unison.

They slip off into the dark.

\-----

So maybe things don't go that well but no one  _actually_  gets caught.

Stiles is going to chalk the night up as a success. The thought warms him as he limps up the stairs to his room after clapping Scott on the shoulder and bidding the common room filled with Brothers a good night.

He thinks that maybe he's out of shape - if being chased by an old security guard can wear him out, then he's got to get back into the gym - but he's satisfied that the only reason he got hurt was his haste to climb the tree in the middle of campus.

He groans lowly as he strips down to his boxers and massages the spot on his thigh that's sure to have a wicked bruise come morning. Flopping onto the bed, he pulls up Netflix and proceeds to gorge himself on tortilla chips.

He giggles at the thought of the Betas opening their front door and seeing  _Go Fork Yourselves_ spelled out in plastic forks on the lawn the next morning.

God, he loves college.

\-----

The Alpha Tau house and the Beta Sigma house have been rivals since before Stiles was born.

He's not clear on the details, just that something happened that led to an almost constant competition between the two fraternities. 

However, the official Prank War didn't actually start until last semester.

Sure, there had always been pranks between the two houses, little things that left the other house fuming but nothing major.

Then Jackson Whittemore decided to dump Lydia Martin, quite publicly at the Greek mixer, and it was  _on_  because nobody messed with Stiles and Scott's childhood best friend. 

_Nobody._

The first prank was small but, oh man, it was a delight: Jackson's Porsche, completely sealed in plastic wrap with "douche nozzle" painted on it.

But someone found out it was Scott and Stiles that did it and suddenly the whole fraternity was a target.

Things escalated from there.

\-----

Two days after the Glorious Forking, Stiles has a skip in his step as he makes his way down the stairs and out the front door.

Sure, he’s got an early class and he has to be up before everyone else in the house, but his thigh doesn’t hurt anymore and his presentation for Psychology is going to be awesome and he’s got a full thermos of coffee.

He’s feeling pretty good.

That is, until he steps out onto the front porch and slips, landing in a pile of something viscous and suspect looking.

“Oh god, ew, ew,” he groans, daring to lift his hand to his face to smell whatever it is that’s all over him _and_ the porch _and_ the front lawn, goddammit.

“Fucking…” he sniffs again, to be sure, then darts his tongue out to lick his thumb. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Pudding. Vanilla, to be exact. And it is fucking _everywhere_. 

He needs a shower because he knows that if this stuff dries on his clothes it will look very much like something else – he was a messy eater in high school, it’s not a big thing. He glances at his watch and sees that he’s going to be late if he takes much longer.

“Goddammit!” he shouts, not caring that there are likely some Beta asshats listening or watching him be pissed off while wallowing in pudding.

He would be getting them back, oh yes, he would.

\-----

Two days later, Stiles, Scott, and a couple other brothers tape water cups all over the outside doorways to the Beta house.

\-----

Three days after that, the Betas put mouse traps all over the Alpha house porch and lawn.

\-----

Next, Stiles orchestrates – but doesn’t participate in – the Alphas leaving a dead fish on the Beta house air conditioning unit.

\-----

A week later, the Betas have rigged the Alphas’ sprinkler system to turn on via motion sensor.

\-----

Stiles has another plan and this one is sooo good, he just has to be one of the people to help set it up. He and Scott are on the front of the house while three other pairs of Brothers work on the other sides of the house.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Scott whispers, glancing out at the dark parking lot.

Stiles unwinds the spool of thread in his hand, checking that the roll of tape isn’t going to slip over his elbow. “Nothing in life is ever certain, Scotty.”

“That’s not…” Scott shakes his head with a sigh. “What are you even _talking_ about?”

“You’d think by now that you’d be used to this,” Stiles hisses. “Now hoist me up.”

“This is a _terrible_ idea,” Scott mutters mutinously but he makes a cradle with his hands for Stiles to step on.

“Don’t go soft on me now, man,” Stiles scolds as he snags a piece of tape and the end of a thread, reaching out to attach it to the nearest windowsill.

He goes to grab another piece of tape and the window slides open, a hand darting out to snatch him forward. Another hand lands on his back and hauls him through the window.

Stiles feels like everything turns upside down as he hears Scott cry out and he’s fully pulled into the pitch black room.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, not in the face, please god I don’t have much except for my face!” Stiles babbles, trying to pry off the hands clenched in his t-shirt.

“Shut up,” his attacker snaps. The guy shakes him forcefully, once, and puts him against the wall next to the window. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Got it?”

Stiles nods, squinting to try and see who’s got ahold of him, since the voice is very familiar, but the room is too dark to make out much more than the guy is bigger than him. “Yeah, okay.”

“Look, I don’t care about your little prank wars or your stupid ‘getting back at each other’ bullshit. But if I have to do one more load of laundry or wash my car one more time because no one at this school is an adult, I will murder someone.”

“Uh, preferably not me,” Stiles squeaks.

“Still haven’t decided,” the guy grunts. There’s a moment of silence then the guy asks, “You’re Stilinski, right?”

Stiles narrows his eyes, saying slowly, “Maybe…”

The guy huffs a laugh and lets go of his back to lean over and switch on a lamp.

Stiles blinks at the sudden light and feels his jaw drop.

Because, oh god, it’s _Derek fucking Hale_ that’s got ahold of him.

Stiles is standing in Derek Hale’s bedroom, pressed very close to Derek Hale’s chest, and Derek Hale still has a hand twisted in the front of his shirt.

Which might be for the best because Stiles isn’t sure his knees will support him at this point.

Because Derek Hale, oooh boy! He’s been the source of Stiles’ fantasies ever since their first class together Freshman year.

Stiles almost failed World Civ because he could barely pull his attention away from Derek’s, well, _everything_.

“Uh… _heeey_ Derek,” Stiles greets, chuckling nervously. “You’re a Beta?” Stiles gestures to the room around him. “I had… no idea.”

Derek snorts. “Well, that’s probably because you spend most of your time planning pranks to play on the rest of my house.”

Stiles winces. “Eh, yeah, that’s… pretty much, yeah…”

Derek sighs and rubs his jaw. He gestures at Stiles. “What were you going to do with that anyway?”

“Oh, this?” Stiles holds up the spool of thread miraculously still clutched in his hand. “It feels like spider webs when you run into it. I was gonna put it up over every window and door and attach fake spiders that would swing down when the threads were pulled.”

“Jesus,” Derek chuckles, almost like he’s impressed. “You’re certainly dedicated.”

Stiles smiles, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "I kinda use my powers for evil sometimes."

“So what would it take for you to call this whole thing off?”

Stiles answers immediately, “An honest apology from Jackson to Lydia for his asshole behavior last year.”

“Done,” Derek agrees. “Anything else?”

And Stiles could say no because, really, that’s the reason that this whole thing started, but… he goes out on a limb and adds slowly, “And a date… with you.”

Derek’s eyebrows slowly rise. “Interesting.” His mouth twitches. “Is that a stipulation that you’re firm on?”

Stiles shrugs again, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, I’m not a scumbag. You can say no. I just figured, um…” He waves his hand between them, like it’s supposed to mean something.

_Jesus, Stiles, you’re so smooth._

Derek surprises him when he shrugs too and says, “Okay. But I get to pick the restaurant.”

“What? Really?” Stiles reels it back, coughing to clear his throat before nodding coolly. “I mean, yeah, cool. Sounds good.”

Derek smiles softly, shaking his head a little, before his smile gets wicked. “You should probably leave through the window, though. Since the truce hasn’t been established yet. Pretty sure if most of the guys saw you here, you’d get your ass kicked.”

Stiles sighs, resigned to his fate. “You are probably correct.” He smiles shyly at Derek. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“Later, Stiles.” Derek watches in amusement as Stiles climbs out the window.

When Stiles gets back to the house, Scott leaps off the couch and bear hugs him, babbling about how worried he was.

“It’s fine, man.” Stiles pats the top of his best friend’s head. “Everything’s good.”

“Dude, what happened to you?” Scott pulls him to the couch and plops down. “Tell me everything.”

Stiles takes a deep breath – and fights a goofy smile – then tells Scott everything.

\-----

By the next week, the truce is brokered and Jackson has openly and publicly apologized to Lydia, cheeks red at the victorious light in the red-head’s eyes as she stays silent and rewards him with a curt nod.

She then loops her arms through Stiles and Scott’s and strolls regally away.

Stiles gets a text later that night from an unknown number.

_Marco’s. Friday at 7 o’clock._

He grins like an idiot and Scott punches him in the arm but it’s worth it.

\-----

Stiles gets pranked by his Brothers right before his date with Derek, in retaliation for calling a truce, even though most of them wanted the pranks to stop anyway.

They grab him, blindfold him, and end up turning his hair bright pink.

When he shows up at the restaurant, he’s red-cheeked and _so_ freaking embarrassed.

Derek just smiles, runs his hands through Stiles’ pink hair, and tells him the color looks good on him.

Stiles thinks that maybe the torture was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> ~(^_^)~
> 
> Hope you liked it.
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


End file.
